


Tsukkiyama Week 2019 Fills

by remarks



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Accidental Confession, Alternate Universe - Bands, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Orchestra, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Babies, Canon Compliant, Confessions, Firsts, Light Angst, M/M, Rain, Studying, Tsukkiyama Week, not saying things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-07-24 20:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20020792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remarks/pseuds/remarks
Summary: These are my fills for Tsukkiyama Week 2019 from Twitter/Tumblr. All prompts and ratings in the chapter titles.





	1. First - G

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts for the week (ones I filled in bold):  
> 7/28 - **first** | royalty/historical  
> 7/29 - **rain** | eatery  
> 7/30 - stargazing | **fantasy** /supernatural  
> 7/31 - **confession** | superhero  
> 8/1 - seasons | **music**  
>  8/2 - **studying** | soulmate  
> 8/3 - free day: **royalty/historical**

Prompt: First, Rating G. Let's just get in there and make everyone SAD!

\--

"This is going to be weird."

"It'll be fine." But Tsukki won't look at him, and Tadashi almost has everything packed now. "You shouldn't wait until the last minute like this."

Tadashi shrugs. He looks down at his bed and tries to figure out if he'll even be able to zip his bag closed. "I guess I figured if I never finished packing, I'd never have to leave."

"That's stupid," Tsukki says, but something in his tone is fond and quiet and when Tadashi lifts his head from his bag-struggle, he has a soft smile on his face.

Tadashi looks away again and blinks, several times. "Sorry, Tsukki," he apologizes quietly, trying not to show how much his voice wants to break.

He gives one last pull and the bag finally caves, one zipper tab meeting the other so that Tadashi can secure them together with the little luggage lock Tsukki gave him as a going-away present. Tadashi made the combination 1112, but he hasn't told Tsukki that; it'll be just a little secret between him and his bag.

Tadashi has almost pulled himself together when long arms wrap around him from behind, making him gasp as Tsukki pulls him back, fitting them together like the tabs on his luggage.

"I'm going to miss you," Tsukki murmurs into his ear. This is a dream and Tadashi will wake up any second now. "This is the first time we won't be playing volleyball together."

"Is that what you're going to miss?" Tadashi asks the room, not trusting himself to look over his shoulder. He hesitates, then puts both his hands over Tsukki's. "The volleyball?"

"Mostly," Tsukki says and laughs quietly at his own joke. He hooks his chin over Tadashi's shoulder, pressing his lips to Tadashi's cheek, and yeah, this is definitely a dream. But then Tsukki pulls back abruptly and when Tadashi finally looks over at him again, his ears are red.


	2. Rain - T

Prompt: Rain, Rating T. So maybe no one's saying things outright, but at least it's not sad!

\--

"Don't say it."

"I wasn't going to say anything." Kei glances out the shop door glass, watching as the rain falls in sheets.

"I needed an arm warmer to help my serve," Tadashi says, staring through the door, too. Outside, people scurry by, wrestling with turned-out umbrellas and holding useless newspapers over their heads. "Ukai-san keeps saying so. _You_ keep saying so."

"I know," Kei says mildly.

"But you still want to say it," Tadashi says. Kei isn't looking directly at him, but he can still feel the way his shoulders droop in defeat when they aren't even playing to win something. Kei hates when he does that. "You want to say _I told you so_."

The rain started up while they were shopping, after Tadashi wheedled Kei into coming along with him thanks to some well-timed whining and a couple of sad puppy dog looks. Kei glanced up at the gathering dark clouds and knew they didn't have a lot of time to get to the train before getting soaked, but he said yes anyway. It's pretty funny the way he follows along with whatever Tadashi wants, flying in the face of empirical evidence. 

Funny. Yeah, that's the word he's looking for.

"That's not what I was going to say," Kei says, still peering outside. The rain isn't letting up and the row of manicured trees lining the sidewalk whip back and forth, bending to the wind's will. He looks away from the external chaos and looks over at Tadashi, feeling a new, internal chaos instead as he examines the slope of Tadashi's nose, the freckles dusted across his cheeks, the pout on his lips. His hair is wild because of the humidity, the stupid piece at the back flopped over in defeat. Does Tadashi think he always needs to be right? That's not it. Kei went with him and it started raining. It doesn't matter to Kei. Shit happens. "That's not what I was going to say," he repeats, needing to be understood.

Tadashi looks back at him, eyes wide, and it's only then that Kei realizes he probably didn't sound like himself. "What did you want to say, Tsukki?"

Desperation claws in his throat, rising up like a panic, and he's floored by the sudden onslaught. Kei doesn't do desperate. "I wanted —" he starts, and stops, mortification joining the desperation, partners in battle. He takes a deep breath. "I wanted to say —"

"Tsukki?"

"Run." He grabs Tadashi's hand and, without looking back, pulls them both into the downpour.


	3. Fantasy AU - T

Prompt: Fantasy AU. Look at me with my ability to write, uh, dragon slayers. Totally what people expect of me! I wrote these out of order and I just realized this is the second day in a row that mentions trees. That brella influence.

\--

“Parry, parry, parry, thrust!” Yamaguchi muttered to himself, shuffling forward and extending his lance the way Shimada showed him. His form still wasn’t there, no strength behind it, and it frustrated him. What was the point of hard work if it never paid off?

No. Yamaguchi steeled himself. It did him no good to think that way.

Yamaguchi pushed his hair out of his eyes, took a deep, slow breath, and took his stance again. He’d never be allowed first into the fray, not with lifelong soldiers like Kageyama there or naturals like Hinata, but he still needed to find a way to fight for Tsuk— the regiment. It was like Ukai was always telling them: Every person had their place and those dragons weren’t about to slay themselves.

He thrust his lance out again, and again, and again, until the sun dipped below the horizon and he was soaked with sweat. Every muscle ached. His bones seemed to rattle in their sockets.

Yamaguchi squinted in the dimming light and buried the tip of his lance deep into the dirt, supporting himself against it.

“One more,” he mumbled resolutely, pulling out his weapon and hefting it up again.

“Yamaguchi,” someone interrupted, startling him badly. He stumbled and bobbled the lance, pitching forward and precariously close to injuring himself on his own weapon. Something akin to his whole short life flashed before his eyes. A lot of it involved Tsukishima.

Ah.

This was an inconvenient time for that revelation.

Yamaguchi’s back hit the earth, driving most of the air from his lungs.

No. It wasn’t the impact – or rather, it wasn’t the first impact. Tsukishima, improbable though it seemed, had thrown himself bodily onto Yamaguchi, only his shield in between, protecting them from each other. A few meters away, Yamaguchi’s lance rolled safely into the grass, impaling exactly zero dragon slayers today.

The rest of Yamaguchi’s breath left him at the sight of Tsukishima’s wide, surprised eyes as he realized what he’d done and where they were.

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi said, making no moves to get up, but it didn’t matter anyway as Tsukishima, red-faced, rolled off of him and sat up. Yamaguchi struggled to sit, too, fascinated with the way Tsukishima turned his head away and refused to meet his eyes.

“I was coming to get you for dinner,” Tsukishima said, addressing the copse of trees ringing the clearing. “You shouldn’t overwork yourself.”

“ _Was_ I overworking myself?” Yamaguchi wondered.

Tsukishima snorted. “You’re dripping in sweat and no one’s seen you since midday,” he said. “I daresay I’m understating the circumstances.”

Yamaguchi chuckled. “Sorry, Tsukki.” He stared out at the horizon again, watching the bands of orange — the color of his regiment — melt into the deep purple that he associated with the full moon. “It’s just that,” he said after some time, long enough that Tsukishima forgot himself and looked Yamaguchi’s way again, “you’ve been working harder now.” He hesitated, but barreled on. “You know. After our disagreement. Your talent is boundless and I need to make sure I don’t fall behind again.”

Tsukishima didn’t say anything right away. Then he sighed and climbed to his feet again. “You certainly get introspective when you’re working yourself to the bone, Yamaguchi.”

Another apology was on Yamaguchi’s lips, but before he could say it, Tsukishima offered out his hand. Yamaguchi stared for a moment before taking it and when Tsukishima hauled him back onto his feet, Yamaguchi couldn’t bring himself to move away again. Not right away.

They were standing very close together in the clearing, alone and in the dark. Tsukishima eventually let out a slow breath. Yamaguchi expected him to step away, but he didn’t.

“Yamaguchi?”

“Yes?” His answer spilled from his lips immediately, a knocked over cup, too quick to be polite.

“Tomorrow —” Tsukishima began, then hesitated. “Tomorrow,” he said again, “if you do this again, allow me to accompany you.”

Yamaguchi smiled in the dark. “Of course, Tsukki.”


	4. Confession - T

Prompt: confession. ravyn_ashling says she likes when a confession isn't meant to be a confession and I hope this fits.

\--

It’s a normal Wednesday. 

Yamaguchi comes home from work early, and Tsukishima pulls himself out of his coding coma so he can join him in the kitchen. They’ve been roommates for a long time now, all through university and afterward, too, the natural progression of so many years of friendship. Akiteru calls it cute. Kuroo calls it codependence, but he’s an asshole and Tsukishima never listens to him anyway.

They move around each other fluidly, pulling things out of the fridge, rifling through the pantry, and setting the small table in their eat-in kitchen. Tsukishima complains about his newest clients, about how they keep asking for the moon and then insisting he can do it because they’ve heard he’s _the best_. He is the best; that’s how he knows it’s impossible. Yamaguchi laughs in all the right places, and it seems like the dour residue of salaryman life sloughs away the longer Tsukishima complains.

Tsukishima likes the reaction he gets; he might chop the cabbage with a little more force than strictly necessary, maybe making Yamaguchi think he’s picturing his clients.

After Tsukishima puts down the knife, taking one final jab at his ridiculous project, Yamaguchi laughs so hard his eyes scrunch up and his entire face goes red. “I fucking love you,” Yamaguchi manages, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, and Tsukishima freezes when he hears what Yamaguchi said. His heart rises up into his throat and then plummets down snapped-cable elevator-style to his stomach. One second later, when Tsukishima’s heart reaches the ground floor, Yamaguchi freezes, too. “Um,” he says and his voice cracks in a way it hasn’t in a decade, “like a bro, I mean.”

The corner of Tsukishima’s mouth twitches up. He can’t help it. He knows this is something big and all-encompassing, so of course he’s determined to fuck it all up. “Like a bro?” he repeats, slow, drawing out each syllable.

“Yeah.” Yamaguchi turns around to lean against the counter; Tsukishima’s eyes flick down before he even realizes what he’s doing. Yamaguchi’s fingers are curled around the edge of the cheap laminate, a tight white-knuckled grip below his freckled forearms. His shirt pulls across his chest, emphasizing what’s underneath in such a way that Tsukishima’s brain forces him to admit that he’s thought about it before. Tsukishima lifts his head again, only to catch Yamaguchi’s tongue darting out to wet his chapped bottom lip. “Well, we’re friends, right?” Yamaguchi says. His voice is pitched low and quiet, so different from just a moment ago. It’s a little shaky, too. “Friends love each other.”

Tsukishima swallows hard as they stare at each other, dinner forgotten. He knows he’s walking right up to the edge of the precipice. He also knows that if he takes that final step, there’s no turning back; you can’t undo falling off a cliff. “Friends _do_ love each other,” he finally replies tentatively. “A lot.”

“A lot?” Yamaguchi echoes, a note of wonder in his voice.

“A lot,” Tsukishima agrees.

Time speeds up after that and though it’s hard to say who reaches for who first, they definitely fall together.


	5. Music - G

Prompt: music. Inspired 50% by [this](https://i.imgur.com/qHSNSJJ.png), 50% by Given, 100% by me being a music nerd. They're in a concert band, though, not a rock one.

\--

Yamaguchi finds Tsukishima in one of the practice rooms, tucked behind a corner drum kit.

“They’re looking for you out there,” he says. “Kuroo and them.” It kind of sucks that Karasuno was invited to an elite music camp with some of the best programs out of Tokyo, and Tsukishima is spending his time ignoring the best drummers in the country.

Tsukishima shrugs. He isn’t holding his normal drumsticks, the ones that have the groove at the base where he twirls them when he’s nervous. Akiteru gave them to him on his tenth birthday; Yamaguchi still remembers how excited they both were when Tsukishima’s brother let them play his drums as long as they wanted that day.

Back then, Yamaguchi thought that was because it was Tsukishima’s birthday. Now, with the benefit of hindsight, he knows it happened right when Akiteru got listless about drumming, replaced on the line by someone younger, better. Years later, Akiteru’s over it; Tsukki’s not.

Tsukishima sighs and drags a brush over the snare, a susurration of sound that makes Yamaguchi shiver.

“Don’t you want to practice with them, Tsukki? They’ve got a lot of experience.”

Tsukishima shrugs again. He does that a lot these days, and even though it takes a lot to piss Yamaguchi off, he can feel anger bubbling up in his chest. He clutches his fists at his sides.

“You know, you’re really a drag these days,” Yamaguchi says.

Tsukishima laughs. “What?”

“You heard me. You know I think you’re cool, Tsukki, but stop wasting everyone’s time.” Yamaguchi stomps off and grabs a bass, plugging it into an amp before Tsukishima can answer him.

This bass is different from the one his parents bought him last year. His fingers feel clumsy as he plucks out a few notes, but he’s been doing extra lessons after school with Shimada from the music store and it’s starting to pay off. It doesn’t take long before he’s bending his instrument to his will, hearing the other parts of the concert band inside his own head. He can hear Kageyama’s perfect violin, Sawamura’s trumpet, Hinata’s squeaky clarinet on another improvised riff.

The bass doesn’t have a lot to do in concert band; sometimes girls ask him if he’s going to start his own band, and though the attention makes him happy, he knows he never would. Not without Tsukki.

Yamaguchi closes his eyes. In his mind’s concert, Azumane’s alto sax plays, missing a few notes, but keeping up, always reliable. Tanaka’s guitar joins Yamaguchi’s bass. Nishinoya switches hand-held percussion, thunder rolling off his maracas. And finally, Tsukishima’s drums come in. Yamaguchi smiles to himself; it’s really not music until Tsukki comes in. It’s a nice sound, a nice dream. If only Tsukishima could see how good he is, how much Yamaguchi needs him.

Yamaguchi’s fingers stumble over the strings.

No, he doesn’t mean that. How much the _band_ needs him. Right.

The drums cut out and Yamaguchi opens his eyes, meeting Tsukishima’s.

“You all right?” Tsukishima asks and his voice sounds strange. After a second, Yamaguchi realizes that’s because it’s so soft. Tsukishima tilts his head and holds up his usual drumsticks; Yamaguchi wonders when he got those out. “We kind of had a good thing going there. Want to keep going?”

“What about those other guys?” Yamaguchi asks. “The other drummers?”

“They’re fine, I guess,” Tsukishima concedes. “I’ll catch up with them later. Right now, I’m staying here.” He plays a drumroll and Yamaguchi grins. “So? You playing with me or not?”

The _always, Tsukki_ is right on the tip of his tongue. Yamaguchi shrugs and hikes up his bass guitar again. “If you want.”


	6. Studying - G

Prompt: Studying. They work in an office together here. It's not important, I just like giving background color.

\--

Yamaguchi has nice hands. Tsukishima can’t help studying them on their coffee break, the way his freckled fingers wrap around his cup as he raises it to his lips and takes a sup, right before laughing at what Tsukishima is saying.

“Can you please stop being funny two seconds before I drink something?” Yamaguchi says, wiping his mouth with the back of one of his nice hands. He’s smiling as he says it, though, rubbing at a splash of coffee on his tie.

Yamaguchi has a nice smile, too. He shows his teeth when he grins and the corners of his eyes crinkle up, and it makes Tsukishima want to smile back with all of his teeth, too. Yamaguchi freezes and stares, and Tsukishima thinks he’s being studied, too.

“What.” Yamaguchi stops and swallows. “What’s going on, Tsukki?”

Tsukishima shrugs. “Talking to you makes me happy.”

Yamaguchi’s eyes widen and his cheeks go red and he drops his gaze to his shoes. That’s all nice, too. Tsukishima could study Yamaguchi all day — his whole life, if he’s being perfectly honest.

“Me too,” Yamaguchi mumbles. Then he lifts his head and steels himself, staring directly into Tsukishima’s eyes. “It’s my favorite thing, in fact,” he declares.

Tsukishima’s breath stutters at that and even though it’s embarrassing, that’s nice, too.

“Oh,” Tsukishima says, and doesn’t pull away when Yamaguchi’s nice hand reaches for his.


	7. Royalty - T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> babies, man. this is a sequel to [another one of my fics](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11084466), but just fyi the first fic's not sfw. you don't have to read that one, though. all you need to know: tadashi will be king of his own land one day, akiteru will be king of his, and tadashi married kei to unite the two kingdoms in a political match but guess what? they're in LOVE.

Prompt: free day. I used royalty AU, leftover from day 1. Sequel to [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11084466). Also includes a baby, but not their baby.

\--

Tadashi loves his new niece. She has the same eyes as Princess Saeko, but the serious expression always on her face is pure Kei. It amuses him to no end to think of little Hotaru growing up with Akiteru and Saeko as parents, the loud Tanaka clan invading her daily life. He stifles a laugh, thinking of her unimpressed face earlier that morning as her Uncle Ryou turned somersaults on her playroom floor. 

“Hello, Hotaru,” Tadashi says, crouching down low to regard her eye-to-eye, where she sits on a fuzzy blanket. She nods at him, a deferential gesture, but given that she’s only eight months old, it’s likely that her head is simply too large for her small body. “You’ll grown into that,” he assures her.

Hotaru’s head drops again and her eyelids flutter, too. Then she yawns.

“Oh,” Tadashi says softly, climbing to his feet again. “You’re tired, aren’t you?” He looks around for a parent, a nursemaid, anyone who’s not him, trying not to let the panic that wants to rise up in his throat do so. He’s naturally prone to bouts of anxiety, but he’s also going to lead his own kingdom one day and showing weakness is unbecoming.

Of course, Kei says he’s silly for thinking that. Perhaps his husband is right. He usually is.

Tadashi takes a deep breath and scoops up Hotaru, cradling her in his arms. She doesn’t cry or, really, make any sound at all. Instead, she continues to regard him seriously, staring up at his face. Then she reaches up with one of her tiny hands and squeezes his nose.

“Ow!” Tadashi cries, surprise and hurt spilling out in one loud exhalation of sound. Then she smiles at him, twin dimples in her chubby cheeks, and passes out, totally and completely asleep. Babies are strange creatures.

For a while, Tadashi paces the playroom as Hotaru snores peacefully and clutches the front of his tunic in her grip. She has Kei’s unruly hair, along with his expressions, and Tadashi wonders how Akiteru feels about his daughter getting all the same Tsukishima traits as her uncle. Knowing Akiteru, he probably loves it. Tadashi certainly does.

When Hotaru’s breath goes deep and even, and her little grip slackens, Tadashi eases himself into the rocking chair in the corner of her room. He’s alone with her for a few more minutes, hoping he won’t need the facilities any time soon, when he hears quiet footsteps outside the door. He knows it’s Kei, of course. Anyone else looking for him would barge in, waking Hotaru up instantly. Tadashi appreciates Kei’s quiet demeanor; he can’t think of anything about Kei he doesn’t appreciate, in fact.

A brief smile crosses Kei’s face when he spots his husband and niece camped out in the corner. His long legs take two strides to reach Tadashi, and once there, he bends at the waist, dropping a kiss atop Tadashi’s head.

“Planning a princess heist?” Kei jokes.

Tadashi shakes his head fervently, making Kei laugh. “I look forward to handing her off to her own parents when she wakes again.” He smiles down at her sleeping face. “Still. This isn’t the worst way to spend some time, and I’m glad your niece likes me.”

“Ah,” Kei says, dropping to one knee and waiting until Tadashi looks down at him to continue. “Unfortunately, you seem to have that effect on my family.”

“Unfortunately,” Tadashi says, and smiles.

Kei leans in and presses his mouth to Tadashi’s; they stay that way for some time while Tadashi tries not to drop the baby. Between them, Hotaru stirs and awakens, immediately bursting into tears.

A moment later, Akiteru hustles in, the crown prince all apologies as he takes Hotaru from Tadashi’s arms and hustles out again.

“I bet she does that every time Akiteru and Saeko kiss, too,” Kei muses. “Good girl.”

Tadashi laughs. “She’s definitely related to you,” he says. Then he rises and takes Kei’s hand, escorting him back to the guest chambers. There’s no one that will interrupt _them_ , at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DID IT. late, but whatever.
> 
> Find my many, many other Tsukkiyama fics [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&include_work_search%5Brelationship_ids%5D%5B%5D=1408234&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bexcluded_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bcrossover%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_from%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_to%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_from%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_to%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&user_id=Marks) and [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&include_work_search%5Brelationship_ids%5D%5B%5D=1408234&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bexcluded_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bcrossover%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_from%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_to%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_from%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_to%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&user_id=remarks). Comments and kudos always appreciated!


End file.
